Do Gooders

“Why do mommy and daddy have to leave again Granddad?”

I could see in his tiny blue eyes, at once, anger and sadness. It was so common to him for mommy or daddy to go away on business trips, but yet, he still couldn’t comprehend why.

“Mommy and Daddy's work takes them to far away countries to help them grow businesses and build schools bud.” “They are doing the work people need done to make the world a better place!”

It was tough for me to field these questions from two little eight and nine-year-old boys, three times each year when their parent’s departure days came around. I wondered to myself, when they may be old enough to understand the true cause for all of this separation. Which parts of my story will they internalize and which parts will their brains grab hold of as they got older and chose their own path?

I had waited until their mother was 10 before I explained my true reason for departing so frequently during her own childhood. I remember the conversations with my wife after our sweet little girl would go to bed.

My wife would explain to me, sometimes kindly, sometimes more directly, “Ryleigh asked me again tonight if daddy was ever going to stay home with us.” Or, “why can’t daddy just have a job here in town like Lily's daddy?” “He is home every night for supper.”

How it killed me then, to hear those words and feel the pain that she must have felt to say such things.

Today, I felt as though these two boys could handle a short version of why their parents were so driven to help others. Why their mother had decided to follow in her Daddy’s footsteps and make those same painful sacrifices. Maybe as they grow up, they will find new ways to help people, without hearing the same questions from another generation.

“Did Mommy and Daddy ever tell you the story of how our family got started helping so many people?” I wondered to myself, just how much they already had been told. Not wanting to go too deep into the story and confuse them.

“Mommy said you went on a trip far away and saw all the people there who needed help.” William started.

“She said you had so much love for helping people, that you couldn’t just sit home knowing there was more you could do to help.” Stephen piped in.

I couldn’t help feel a sense of pride in how the looks on my grandchildren’s faces changed with the recounting of this particular memory. They appeared almost joyous and proud to tell me the story. Their attention distracted, however briefly, from the earlier question.

“Mommy said you might tell us the story someday if we asked really nicely.” William added with an enormous grin.

“Well,” I started enthusiastically” you two boys had better brush your teeth and throw on your PJ’s before I tell you this one.” Both boys ran excitedly upstairs, racing to see who would be story ready first. I loved telling bedtime stories to my grandsons more than almost anything else I got to do these days.

Making up stories off the top of my head at bedtime, had been a challenge I enjoyed so much when I was home during Ryleigh’s childhood. I didn’t get to put her to bed every night, but whenever I was home, I was sure not to miss a chance to perform for my favorite little angel. Feeding her curious mind with stories, I imagined had strong moral messages, or remembering an exciting bit of one of my trips abroad that would keep her thinking positively about my time away from her all those years.

Her boys were equally attentive to the stories, some of which I refreshed or adapted for my new larger audience.

“Why did you start helping people granddad?” Stephen inquired as he crawled into his tall white loft bed.

“Is that where you met Nanny?” William added.

I could see I had much material to choose from for tonight’s tale. “Stephen, I met your grandmother many years before I began to travel to help people.”

“Before your mother was born, Nanny and I would journey together, helping people, and learning new things where ever we went.” Knowing the boys never met my late wife, I enjoyed passing on all of her best characteristics to them. Hoping they might aspire to follow in her footsteps. She had been such an inspiration to my career, and the deciding factor in our wonderful daughter beginning her own career path.

“My story actually began many years before I even met Nanny.” The year I graduated high school, I was walking along the country roads back home, when I spotted a little black notebook in the bushes in front of a neighbour’s house.”

“When I picked it up, a small index card fell out, with writing on it which didn’t make any sense to me at the time.”

“Whose notebook was it Granddad?” asked William, whom I could tell was already enthralled with my story.

“That was something I set my mind to find out William.” I explained, wanting to keep up the suspense while I worked through my story.

“I visited a few of my neighbours along that road to see if anyone had lost such a confusing little book. But it looked like I would be holding onto it for a while.” I continued.

“After I got home and Goupy and Grandma had a look at the notebook, I parked myself upstairs for the rest of the night, pouring over the pages of the book, hoping for a clue of what it was for.”

“Goupy, thought it looked like codes, sixteen characters long, along with email addresses, the likes of which I had never seen.”

“My teenage brain worked overtime engrossed in the mysterious notebook.” I recalled.

In truth, I had spent weeks trying to decipher the notebook. Its contents proved themselves too difficult an enigma for my teenage mind. Eventually, the notebook ended up where a lot of teenage obsessions end up when the shine wears off. The bottom of a desk drawer.

“I went away to university without really thinking much more about that little black book.” I said in a defeated tone.

“Stephen, University is actually where I met Nanny.” His ears perked up, hearing the continued answer to his earlier inquiry.

“I use to joke that I spent all that money on my degree just to meet Nanny.” I quipped, remembering the laughs that same line had brought to our family and friends on our wedding day. Today though it only elicited a couple of warm smiles from my grandsons, whom I knew had no clue what I really meant, but were humoring an old man to keep the story moving.

After university, I had decided to move into my own place in the city and when I cleaned out my desk before popping it into the moving van with Goupy. We looked at that notebook when it flopped onto the floor, each remembering the conundrum it created. I leafed through, quickly before I popped it into one of my bags. I figured, I might have time to unlock its secrets in the evenings after work in my new abode.

“My first job after university was a researcher for a former business professor, Nanny and I had enjoyed from school.” I explained.

“I had no idea my research job would actually unlock the mysterious notebook’s hidden meaning, promptly after I started work.” I said with the enthusiasm of a seasoned story teller.

My old Professor was researching banking alternatives that might aid impoverished nations if designed with socially supportive frameworks in mind.

“Do you guys know what a bitcoin is?” I asked intently.

William piped up, “is it a little bit of a coin Granddad?”

I held back my big laugh as not to rile the boys up before bed. I wouldn’t want them getting revved up before I leave the room. That, I had learned the hard way when Ryleigh was small.

“Well I guess I’ll have to start there tomorrow night at bedtime!” I giggled to myself as they pleading to keep going with the story.

The next morning, I escorted the boys to school, they joked and begged me to continue my story from the night before. I promised them to start a little earlier tonight, so we could finish up in time for a good sleep.

After supper, the boys began again. Asking me to continue the story. I wanted to give the crowd what they hoped for, so I convinced the boys to clear the table before I began.

“Alright, where were we yesterday?” I teased.

“Was I talking about how heavy the old shelves were in that school library?”

“NO!” hollered both boys.

“Granddad, you were telling us about something called Bitcoins.” Remembered Stephen.

“Was the notebook worth money Granddad?” Asked William.

“As it turned out boys, the notebook was worth more money than your Nanny and I had ever dreamed could be possible.”

“Our old Professor recognized the long 16-digit number and letter patterns as possible Bitcoin wallet passwords.” I clarified.

The eyes of both my darling grandchildren widened until I was convinced they might pop out.

“The first email and password I tried had $20,000 in bitcoin just sitting there. I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

“When I tried the rest of the email addresses and passcodes, tens of thousands of bitcoins kept adding up.”

I continued explaining to the boys. “It was like winning the lottery every time a new email and password combo worked.”

“After spending almost a year searching for the original owner of the notebook. Nanny and I sold the bitcoins, funded some future research for our Professor to repay him for his guidance over the past year, and bought some maps to figure out where we would like to travel to first.”

“While we were in one small country, which felt so far removed from anything Nanny and I had ever seen. We came across a small town where no one spoke English, but our tour guide translated to us, the sad story of a fire that destroyed so much of the village, the people there were struggling to rebuild.” I tried to explain. Tearing up at the memory of the overwhelming flood of emotions that day.

“When your Nanny and I looked at each other on the long ride back to our hotel, we both knew we needed to do something to help.”

“Is that when you started traveling to help people Granddad?” Stephen enthusiastically squealed.

“Of course Buddy!” My smile too big to contain anymore.

“I traveled for years helping thousands of people in dozens of countries all over. Sadly, Nanny died a couple of years after we started bringing your mom on our trips with us. I like to think that the example we set for her, was what helped her choose to help others.”

“While we were stopped over in Italy on one of our trips, your mom met your dad, who was traveling to help people too. And that is why the travel now. So they can continue to help more people than Nanny could have ever dreamed!” but that is your mother's story to tell.